


sweet will be the flower

by bookoftheazuresky



Series: a mysterious way [1]
Category: Tales of Graces
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 13:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8250589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookoftheazuresky/pseuds/bookoftheazuresky
Summary: Asbel retrieved a rag and started wiping up the puddles that Cheria had left on the floor. He was about halfway done when a low tenor voice tentatively asked, “Excuse me?”
Asbel practically levitated, slamming his head into the underside of the front counter. He bit back a yelp of pain, scrambling out from under the register.





	

**Author's Note:**

> When I wanted to write more Richard and Asbel, this was not what I had in mind...
> 
> Eternal thanks to my lovely betas, DivineMadness and meadowlarked.

“Dammit,” Asbel heard Cheria say as he settled the heavy stoneware vase on the counter. “Dammit, dammit, dammit!”

Concerned, he poked his head into the main room of Graces, the domain his childhood friend ruled over with an iron fist. Cheria was, after all, “a goddamn lady, Asbel” (as she liked to say when there weren’t any customers around) and she didn’t usually swear. Unless she had just dealt with an annoying customer. Or the coffeepot was broken again. Or Pascal had just appeared and dumped a vase (and the flowers in it) over her own head because her hair was on fire. Actually, never mind, Cheria did swear a lot, but only in front of her only employee.

What she was currently cursing over was her phone, which had apparently fallen into one of the buckets behind the service counter. She’d gotten the case off and was frantically wiping it down on her purple skirt, leaving a big wet spot on the fabric.

“Asbel!” she said as she caught sight of him hanging out of the back room. “I need to get this to Pascal right now before my phone decides to croak on me. Watch the front!”

“Got it,” Asbel said. Cheria strode out, still shaking her phone like that might dislodge some more water. The bell on the door jingled behind her.

Asbel retrieved a rag and started wiping up the puddles that Cheria had left on the floor. He was about halfway done when a low tenor voice tentatively asked, “Excuse me?”

Asbel practically levitated, slamming his head into the underside of the front counter. He bit back a yelp of pain, scrambling out from under the register.

“I’m so sorry,” the slender man in the green sweater vest said. He sounded mortified. “I didn’t see anyone! I didn’t mean-“

“It’s nothing,” Asbel said quickly. “I must hit myself on the counter at least once a week. Anyway,” he rushed on frantically, “welcome to Graces, what can I do for you?” He was such a screw-up, he couldn’t even keep from making an idiot of himself in front of the customer.

The other man’s aristocratic features were still marred by a look of dismay. He bit his lower lip. “Are you sure you’re all right? I definitely heard you hit your head.”

“My father always said I had a head as hard as a rock.” A second after the words left his mouth he realized his tone was just a _little_ too bitter for that to be read as a joke, and he forced his voice up into cheer. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

Changing the subject away from his father, he asked, “Are you looking for a bouquet? We have several very romantic arrangements over in that case.” He pointed to the refrigerated display that took up the right-hand wall. “Or would you like something made to order? We can have small orders done in under half an hour.”

Recalled to his purpose for coming in, the other man- he looked just a bit older than Asbel- said, “I need something to brighten up a room. I’m afraid I need it rather urgently.”

“Of course!” Asbel said, mentally tallying up their stock in preparation. “Do you have anything specific in mind?”

“…Roses?” the man suggested. Apparently not, Asbel concluded.

“We can do roses,” Asbel said. “If you’re looking to brighten up a room, I’d think yellow would be best. Maybe with some purple Monte Casinos?” At the uncomprehending look, Asbel clarified, “Asters. They look a lot like daisies.”

“That sounds _perfect_ ,” the frazzled man said gratefully. His phone went off; the blond looked at the screen and winced. He turned a pleading gaze on Asbel. “Half an hour, you said?”

“…I’ll be quick,” Asbel promised rashly. “Do you need a vase?”

~

With no small feeling of accomplishment, Asbel brought the finished arrangement out of the back. He’d pricked his fingers stripping off the roses’ thorns, but it was worth it for the expression of relief on the man’s face.

“You’re a _lifesaver_ ,” he breathed. Asbel fought down a blush- the blond was _very_ handsome.

“Just doing my job,” Asbel demurred. He punched in the type of arrangement on the register. “Cash or card?”

A bill far in excess of the price of the flowers was smacked down on the counter. “Keep the change,” the other man said. “You’ve _more_ than earned it.” The pure gratitude in his voice made Asbel flush harder.

He was opening his mouth to protest the tip when the man swept up the flowers into his arms. Then he realized what he _should_ do and rushed to hold open the door. A flash of a heartfelt smile and Asbel was left on the sidewalk trying to relearn how to breathe.

A few moments- _hopefully,_ a few moments- later and Cheria’s confused voice made him turn around. “Um, Asbel...what are you doing?”

“Helping a customer!” He knew his voice was too loud and he was too red, and from Cheria’s slightly furrowed brows she’d noticed too.

~

Asbel was carefully transferring unsold flowers back to the refrigerators when Cheria poked her head through the door. “ _Come here_ ,” she hissed, beckoning him.

It was a good thing Cheria was stronger than she looked, because Asbel froze in the doorway when he saw the handsome customer from this morning. Without her yank, he probably would have stayed there forever like some tacky statue.

“Hello,” the blond said, slightly sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “I just thought I’d stop by and thank you again for saving me this morning. I know it was unreasonable of me to put you on the spot like that.”

“I like saving people,” Asbel said idiotically. He could feel Cheria’s gimlet stare on his back, so he hastily continued, “It was my pleasure.”

“My client really liked your arrangement,” the other man said. “I don’t suppose you take orders by phone? It would probably be better for me to order ahead of time instead of just rushing in here.”

Asbel nearly knocked over their card stand pulling out a business card. “We definitely do! Our number is on here.”

“Thank you,” the man said with a hint of the same heartfelt gratitude he’d displayed that morning. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you too,” Asbel responded automatically. He stared at the man’s back, following his path past the windows and out of sight.

“Oh, Asbel,” Cheria caroled sweetly behind him. An involuntary shiver swept up his spine at the tone. “Do you have something to tell me?”

“I really want to see him again,” Asbel concluded dazedly.


End file.
